


Dynamics

by trufflemores_Glee_fic



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 23:52:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11428857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trufflemores_Glee_fic/pseuds/trufflemores_Glee_fic
Summary: Blaine fits right in with the New York family.





	Dynamics

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everybody! After receiving multiple requests to repost my old Glee fics, I have created a second AO3 account to do so. I hope you can forgive me for flooding the Glee pages over the next few days. 
> 
> I also ask for kindness regarding the quality of these fics. Over on my main AO3 account (trufflemores), I have written over 150 Flash fics; end result, my current work is of a higher quality than these older pieces. But I know how beloved old fics can be, and I respect that something I consider sub-par can be someone else's favorite. 
> 
> So I hope you enjoy this fic and any others you choose to read. If you choose to do so, I would also be happy to have you on board 'The Flash' bandwagon as well.
> 
> Kick back, relax, and enjoy. You have been one of the greatest audiences I have ever had.
> 
> Affectionately yours,  
> trufflemores

"This is totally against the rules."

"You bench-press your boyfriend every day, don't even start with me, hobbit."

"Okay, first of all, Kurt is not my boyfriend, he's my fiancé--"

"I swear to God, Blanderson, if you start talking all mushy about how amazing your gay wonder twin's ass is--"

Kurt had always had impeccable timing.  He'd seen more than his fair share of boobs and even had a wrapped tampon chucked at his head during a particularly heated argument with Santana.  Ever since moving into the loft with Rachel almost a year ago, he'd realized that living with girls meant dealing with girl parts and habits and that knocking was a gift meant to help parties (albeit Santana never seemed to mind whatever state of undress he caught her in; she even seemed to enjoy the furious blushing and high-pitched chants of oh my god that ensued).  Still, he hadn't ever expected to be graced with the sight of Blaine in a pair of sinfully tight green shorts and a black workout shirt stretched halfway across a white mat with Santana arched over him in the middle of their living room.  Given the fact that one of Santana's hands wasn't even touching the floor, Kurt suspected that Blaine was bearing most - if not all - of her weight.

Hence: "This is cheating," Blaine huffed, biceps pronounced as he carefully stayed aloft, straining to reach the colored spinner in front of him.

"I never said I played fair," Santana said.

The sound of the door sliding shut seemed to snap both of them from their reverie, Blaine almost collapsing in surprise as he yelped, "Kurt!  You're back early."

Setting the bags of groceries down on the kitchen counter, Kurt leaned back against it as he watched Blaine painstakingly move his left hand from a yellow circle to a green one.  "Isabelle took the night off, but I thought I'd pick up some groceries first," he explained.  "What are you two doing?"

"We're deciding who has to do the dishes next month," Blaine explained, grunting when Santana leaned forward to spin the wheel.

"And since I have kickass flexibility, I'm never going to have to do the dishes again," Santana finished, sliding her right foot from yellow to green.  "Your move, hobbit."

"I thought we agreed on a rotating schedule," Kurt pointed out, fishing a bag of pistachios from one of the upper cabinets and popping one into his mouth as he watched Blaine shimmy his right foot carefully onto a blue circle.

"We did," Blaine agreed, grunting as Santana shifted so that her right knee dug into his side, "but there's nothing like a little healthy competition to keep things fresh."

"I see," Kurt replied, arching an eyebrow as the wheel landed on right hand green.  "Is that even possible?"

Blaine made a soft noise that might have been disagreement as he twisted around, planting his hand firmly on the space with a triumphant, "Yes!"

"I'm still going to win," Santana said, rolling her eyes as she moved her left hand to a green space.

"I can't reach the spinner," Blaine said, an audible whine in his voice as Santana reached over to flick the wheel again.

Kurt was a quarter of the way through the bag of pistachios and more than a little impressed by the sheer determination spelled out in the tense quips from both parties when the fatal blow was finally dealt.

Try though he might, there was no room for Blaine's right foot on green with both of Santana's hands occupying the nearest comfortable spaces.  Stretching for the third nearest slot, he slipped and, with a surprised grunt, he landed in a hopeless sprawl on the mat.

"Ooh," Kurt crooned sympathetically, setting his pistachios aside and sidling over to Blaine's side as he laid face-down for a moment, unmoving.  "You okay, honey?"

"And with that, I have a girlfriend to make out with and the stench of hobbit to wash off," Santana said, climbing to her feet easily.  "Have fun cleaning the dishes!" She sashayed off to start a shower, the running water kicking Kurt into action as he knelt beside Blaine.

He let out a startled oof! when Blaine rolled over and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him down to his chest and humming happily.  "I wasn't expecting you home so soon," he said, kissing him once.

"So you've said," Kurt drawled, propping himself up on his elbows.  "If you ruin my Marc Jacobs, then you're buying me a new vest," he warned, poking him lightly in the chest.

Blaine rolled his eyes at him, running his fingers up and down his sides slowly.  "I would never ruin any of your clothes," he assured, smoothing the fabric down soothingly.

Kurt arched an eyebrow in response.  "Of course," he said brightly, "unlike that time when you ripped the buttons off my new purple shirt--"

"You have lots of purple shirts, and I agreed to fix those," Blaine protested.

"Or the time you rumpled my sweater--"

"It molded back to its original shape," Blaine mumbled.

"Or the time you washed my white jacket with your new red polo--"

Kurt laughed as Blaine sighed and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, kissing the tip of it once.  "I love you.  Annnnd I know that you did that on purpose, even if you shouldn't have."

"Did what on purpose?" Blaine asked, feigning innocence as he lowered his hand.

"Wagered dish-washing on Twister," Kurt said, wrinkling his nose at the spinner.  "What did she actually threaten you with?  Burn all your bow ties?"

Blaine winced at the thought, shaking his head.  "Worse.  She found out where I keep my extra hair gel."

"Mm."  Kurt kept his expression as neutral as possible, sitting up and looking down at Blaine with a grin.  "So this was a diversion?"

Blaine shrugged, looking up at him and smiling.  "More or less.  At least now I won't have any qualms about revenge."

"Ooh, count me in," Kurt said, climbing to his feet and holding out a hand for Blaine.  "She owes me for all the sleepless nights," he added as Blaine took his hand and hauled himself to his feet.

And if Kurt never fully understood the complexities of Santana and Blaine's relationship - or the strange and seemingly fragile truce that existed between them, which ranged from fetching midnight snacks together to wearing each other's clothing (at least, Santana wore Blaine's loose workout shorts and occasionally his old worn-out sweaters; Kurt had never seen the reciprocity fully initiated) - then at least he appreciated the simple pleasure of having a night in with his boyfriend because Santana wanted to celebrate her victory with her girlfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> P.S. Please let me know if there are any weird coding errors in the fic! I did my best to weed them out before publication, but some will inevitably slip through the cracks.


End file.
